


Clintasha Advent

by JenJo



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Clintasha Advent 2016, F/M, Fluff, Parents, Sam/Bucky in chapter 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 13,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8747308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenJo/pseuds/JenJo
Summary: What it says on the tin: My collection of prompt fills for the Clintasha Advent over at clintasha-week on tumblr.





	1. Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> This fic series is not written in chronological order.  
> However, all the fics take place within the same story.

The first time that he held their daughter, Clint could not believe how small she still was. Four weeks old, and only just bigger than his hand. 

The first time that he saw their twin children, they could both fit into one of his hands, with room to spare.

-

 

 

He had been on a mission, when Natasha had gone into labour.

He hadn’t known until he stepped foot off the jet, and was taken straight to the Tower, rather than to debriefing.

There, while he was covered in post mission filth, Natasha told him the news.

The twins were born at thirty two weeks, and would be staying in NICU until they grew a bit more. 

“And you are definitely not going anywhere near them until you have had a shower,” Natasha had smiled at him, pointing to the adjacent shower.

When he got out, there was a fresh set of clothes waiting for him. 

“Did you bring  _ me  _ a change of clothes?” He asked Natasha when he came out of the bathroom. 

She nodded. “Of course. It was part of the bag. Now, do you want to go and meet our children?”

“What do they look like?”

“I don’t know,” Natasha’s mouth twisted up in that way that Clint recognised as her trying not to cry. “They had to take them away straight away, and I haven’t been able to leave the room. And I didn’t want to meet them until you were here.”

Clint came over to the bed, and put an arm around Natasha’s shoulders. “Hey, you alright?”

Natasha shook her head, wiping at her eyes before leaning her head on Clint’s shoulder. “Better now that you are here.”

Clint held on to one of Natasha’s hands, and kissed the top of her head. “Guess I’m going on leave a bit earlier than expected.”

Natasha nodded, before sitting up and pointing at a wheelchair. “I’m going to need some help getting there.”

Clint stood up, holding his arms out. “Like this?”

Natasha nodded, and Clint picked her up bridal style, walking over and putting her down on the wheelchair. He paused for a moment, just staring into Natasha’s eyes.

“What are you doing?”

He smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips. “We’re parents. Can you believe it?”

Natasha smiled, reaching out to pat Clint’s cheek. “Yes, yes I can. Now, shall we go and meet them?”

-

“They’re so tiny,” Clint whispered, staring at the two incubators next to each other. He reached out to take Natasha’s hand.

Natasha squeezed it back. “Of course they are. Thirty weeks. But they’re strong. Just like their father.”

Clint turned to Natasha, raising an eyebrow at her. “I think they might get that from you, my dear.”

Natasha shrugged a shoulder, looking back at their twins. “They’re so small, they won’t be coming home anytime soon.”

“They are home,” Clint said. When Natasha turned to him, frowning, he shrugged at her, lifting the hand that he was still holding and kissing the back of it. “My home is wherever you are. Has been for years. And now, home is wherever the three of you are.”

Natasha shook her head, smiling the entire time. “So sentimental. Who knew?”

“All it took was seeing these two,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss Natasha’s cheek. “Any ideas for names?”

Natasha hummed, reaching out with her free hand to trace patterns on the side of one of the incubators.  

“Liam,” Natasha whispered, before looking at Clint. “Liam?”

Clint nodded. “Liam. Sounds perfect.”

“Liam Alistair,” Natasha repeated, still watching their son. “Like we talked about?”

“I remember,” Clint looked to their daughter, who was sound asleep. “Jordan?”

“She looks like a Jordan,” Natasha muttered, reaching out to trace over her incubator. “Jordan Sacha.”

“They sound perfect,” Clint smiled. “Jordan and Liam Romanoff.”

Natasha turned to Clint. “Romanoff? Really?”

“What, you want them to have Barton as a surname?”

Both looked each other. Neither of them particularly liked the history associated with their names. 

“How about,” Natasha spoke. “Barton-Romanoff. Then, they can decide which one they want to keep.”

“What’s in a name anyway?” Clint asked, before turning to their sleeping twins. “Jordan and Liam Barton-Romanoff. You two have an amazing future ahead of you.”

-

Clint had promised himself that he wouldn’t cry the first time that he held their children.

Luckily, he had not told anyone about this promise, because he had broken it.

Even at four weeks old, Jordan and Liam were just so  _ small _ . He was worried about dropping them, about holding them wrong.

He had worked it up in his head, made it a big problem.

But once he was holding Jordan, all of that went away. 

Natasha was sitting on her bed, talking to Liam with a smile on her face.

Jordan, on the other hand, only settled when she was being walked around. So Clint was walking around the hallways, chatting to her.

“You have an amazing family,” he said, alternating watching where he was going and watching Jordan. “And you’ll meet them properly soon. You’ll get to leave here, and go and meet everyone. But you’ll always be home. I want you to remember that home is where you feel safe. Home isn’t a place, not always. Sometimes it’s a person. My home is with you and your brother and your mum. You’ll find a home, and you’ll always feel safe. Until then, I will do whatever I need to do to keep you safe. Okay?”

When Clint looked down, Jordan was fast asleep in his arms. 

He returned to Natasha’s room, sitting down next to her on the bed. Both their children were asleep, and looked perfect.

  
  



	2. Liho&Lucky&Clint&Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Pets and Animals.  
> Takes place before 'Firsts'

**Liho.**

Liho was the first one to figure out that Natasha was pregnant.

Natasha was reading a book, sitting with her back to the glass window of their Tower rooms. Liho came over, and sat in Natasha’s lap, resting her head on Natasha’s stomach.

At the time, Natasha dismissed it as (not her) her cat being affectionate.

 

**Lucky.**

Lucky was the second to figure it out.

It was a week after Liho had started to resting on Natasha’s stomach. Lucky had started to follow Natasha everywhere, and looking at anyone who approached her with a weary eye.

(This included Clint.)

Natasha also dismissed this action of Lucky’s as simply the dog being territorial for whatever reason.

**Clint.**

Later, Clint would say that he figured out that Natasha was pregnant before she did.

He watched the way that their pets would act around Natasha. Lucky would put himself between Natasha and everyone else, going as far as to growl at anyone who wanted to go near Natasha. Liho would spend most of her time curled up on or near Natasha.

Clint went online, and found many stories about pets being able to sense their owner’s pregnancy.

_ Natasha will tell me when she is ready. _

 

**Natasha.**

Natasha realised she was pregnant at the eight week mark.

A combination of internal factors, as well as the behaviour of her pets, led her to this conclusion.

A blood test confirmed it.

She told Clint right away. His response?

“I’ve known for three weeks. And I’m pretty sure that the kids have known for longer.”

Natasha looked at Liho and Lucky then; both were sitting with her, and giving Clint funny looks, even though he was sitting across the room from her. 

“Perhaps,” she muttered, petting Lucky. “They  _ are  _ pretty perceptive.”

 


	3. Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day three: being normal.  
> Takes place between the first two chapters.

“Are we doing this right?”

Clint shrugged his shoulders, turning around from his project. “ _ You _ , are asking  _ me _ , how to assemble a bassinet?”

Natasha frowned at Clint, from her position on the couch. “ _ No _ , I was asking if me sitting here  _ watching you assemble a bassinet _ , is right. Because It doesn’t feel right.”

Clint laughed a little, walking across the carpet on his knees until he was kneeling in front of Natasha. He reached out to hold her cheek.

“What’s really the matter?”

Natasha shook her head, twisting up her lips.

“Tasha.”

“Fine,” Natasha blew out a breath, before reaching up to hold onto Clint’s hand, moving it from her cheek to rest them on her belly. She looked at their hands as she spoke. “I’m scared Clint. Scared of what the future will hold. What right do we have to bring anyone else into it?” Natasha shook her head, closing her eyes against her tears.

“Hey, hey,” Clint squeezed Natasha’s hand, waiting for her to open her eyes before continuing. “You’re supposed to be the rational one in this relationship.”

“You have your moments too.”

“I try,” Clint shrugged his shoulders, reaching out with his free hand to wipe at the corners of Natasha’s eyes. “You’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,  _ they’ll  _  be fine. We’ll all be fine.”

“One day,” Natasha sighed, smiling slightly at Clint. “One day, very far away. Feels like I’ve been pregnant forever.”

“It’s been four months.”

“Forever,” Natasha repeated, letting go of Clint’s hand and patting the couch next to her. “Sit here please?”

“What about the bassinet?” Clint asked as he sat up on the couch. Natasha didn’t answer, instead moving so that she was lying on the couch with her head in Clint’s lap.

Clint laughed at Natasha’s position. “Comfortable?”

“Very, surprisingly,” Natasha answered, smiling up at Clint. “I’m sorry.”

Clint frowned down at her. “For what?”

“For being a mess before.”

Clint shook his head. “No need to apologise for that. Comes with the territory.”

“But I was crying over a  _ bassinet _ ,” Natasha frowned, before laughing. “A bassinet. Seriously.”

“Not the first time you’ve had a weird reaction to something, and probably not the last time. Apparently that’s normal.”

Natasha laughed again. “Because either one of us are so normal.”

“I feel like that was a dig at me,” Clint said, rubbing Natasha’s arm.

She hummed, closing her eyes. “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

Clint smiled, watching as Natasha fell asleep.

 


	4. Feeding the Twins is Always an Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: food and drink.  
> In this, the twins are two years old.

Jordan won’t eat corn. Liam won’t eat peas.

Neither will touch carrots.

Both love to eat spaghetti, and pizza.

“You know, I’m pretty sure the two of you can communicate telepathically,” Clint said, sitting at the table. Jordan and Liam looked at him, each of them with an untouched plate of food in front of them. They both seemed to blink in unison.

“You look like your mum when you do that,” Clint muttered, taking the spoon in front of Jordan and attempting to get her to eat. She shook her head. “Really? Why? It’s yummy. You ate this yesterday.”

Jordan sat there, continuing to shake her head. Clint sighed, putting down the spoon and picking  up the one in front of Liam. “How about you?”

Liam mirrored his sister, shaking his head. Clint shook his own head, dropping the spoon and leaning back in his chair. “Fine. No food then.”

Jordan and Liam both mirrored his pose.

 

“Nice to see that lunch time is going smoothly,” Natasha said as she walked into the room, giving Clint a kiss as she sat beside him. “What’s with the copycat competition?”

Clint lowered his arms, and couldn’t help his smile when both the twins copied him. “They won’t eat.”

“Oh?” Natasha asked, before looking at them. “Not feeling like potatoes?”

Jordan picked up her spoon, eating her food. Liam followed a moment later.

“Why?”

Natasha smiled at Clint, before watching the twins. “Last night, they only ate for you. Tonight, it’s me. We just have to do what we can.”

“They looked like you earlier,” Clint spoke, watching the twins as well. “Blinking at me like I had done something wrong. Those green eyes, I fall for them every time.”

Natasha laughed, leaning her head on Clint’s shoulder. “You know, when they’re older, they’ll know exactly how to get you to let them do whatever they want?”

“No.”

“No?”

“They’re going to stay small forever.”

Natasha laughed as Jordan and Liam put their spoons down at the same time, identical clean bowls in front of them.

“All done?” Natasha asked. Both twins nodded, holding up their hands and forming the sign for ‘done’. Clint and Natasha walked around the table, each picking up a child.

“Enjoy dinner?” Clint asked Jordan, who nodded, patting his cheek.

“да,” Jordan nodded.

“да,” Liam echoed, giving Natasha a kiss on her cheek.

“Oh, now you talk?” Clint asked Jordan, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you talk earlier?”

Jordan just smiled, resting her head on Clint’s shoulder. “S’eep.”

“S’eep,” Liam echoed again, copying Jordan. Clint raised an eyebrow at Natasha.

“I think they want to go to sleep.”

“I think so too,” Natasha nodded, beginning to walk towards the twin’s room. “All that food must have worn them out.”

“I think it was all their stubbornness,” Clint muttered. Jordan giggled.

“Long word,” she giggled. Clint shook his head, sitting down on Jordan’s bed and letting her climb down.

“What’s wrong with long words?” He asked as he watched her worm her way into her bed. She sat up, and tilted her head at Clint. “What?”

She raised her hands, and signed ‘sleep’. Clint nodded, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

“Okay,” Clint said, before signing, ‘sleep well’. He then went over and repeated the process for Liam.

Clint left the room, going to begin making lunch for himself and Natasha while she finished putting the twins to bed.

“So, what’s for lunch?” Natasha asked when she came back in, sitting at the table with a glass of water.

Clint brought over two plates of pasta. “Pasta carbonara.”

“Mmm, perfect.” Natasha smiled as she took a mouthful. “Perfect. How were they this morning?”

Clint waved a hand as he twirled some pasta around his fork. “You know. Scary twins who take great joy in scaring me. Jordan asked me if she could go to the toilet-”

“That’s good.”

“-I hadn’t finished. She asked, in a combination of English, Russian, _and_ Sign.”

Natasha blinked, putting down her fork. “Really?”

Clint nodded. “Yeah, she’s scary smart. Just like her mother.”

“Aww, you say the sweetest things.”

Clint laughed. “Funny. How was work?”

“Training recruits is fun,” Natasha smiled, picking her fork back up. “They believe _all_ the stories.”

Clint groaned, shaking his head. “Damn recruits. They’ll figure out that you lie all the time.”

Natasha shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe. I rather doubt it though. Might tell them one day.”

“Maybe I should go in one day, instead of you.”

Natasha’s eyes widened at that. She put down her fork, reaching across the table to take Clint’s hand. “Pretend we body swapped.”

Clint blinked back at her. “We could pull it off.”

“We could.”

They stared at each other a moment longer, before nodding simultaneously and resuming their lunch.

“Tomorrow then?” Clint asked.

Natasha nodded. “Tomorrow.”

-

When Natasha went into the twin’s room to wake them, she could not help but smile. Jordan had moved into Liam’s bed, and the two were sleeping side by side, holding hands.

 


	5. The Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint gifts some SHIELD recruits with the experience of the unexpected

Clint keeps a straight face as he walks through the halls of SHIELD, ignoring the strange glances that he was receiving.

He ended up being stopped at a security checkpoint.

“You know, I did not believe it when I was told that Clint Barton had returned.”

Clint smiled at Maria Hill. “Hill, looking well.”

Maria simply raised an eyebrow at Clint. “Why are you here?”

Clint beckoned Maria closer, before lowering his voice. “Playing a prank on some recruits.”

Maria could not help but smile knowingly. “Body swap?”

“Body swap.”

 

“Very well,” Maria nodded, turning to the agent on duty. “Let him through.”

“Ma’am?”

“Let him through.” Maria’s expression and voice left no room for argument. The agent typed in a code, before allowing Clint through.

“Thank you Commander.”

“You’re welcome, Agent Romanoff.”

Clint smiled at the security agent’s look of sheer confusion as he walked past.

 

\\\\\\\\\/////

 

“Where’s Agent Romanoff?” one of the recruits asked when Clint walked into the room. Clint gave the recruits a flat look.

“I expect you all to be sparing when I walk in here.”

The recruits shared a look, before one stepped forward. “Agent Romanoff?”

Clint clasped his hand behind his back. “How many of you have memorised the Handbook yet?” When no one said yes, he shook his head. “Section 54, subsection 24: On the subject of body swaps.”

“Body swaps?”

Clint nodded. “Why aren’t you sparring yet?”

The recruits moved so fast, that Clint had a hard time stopping his laughter.

 

\\\\\\\\\/////

 

“I was wondering when you would show up,” Maria smiled as she stood up, giving Natasha a hug. 

“Good to see you too Maria,” Natasha said as she slid into the seat opposite Maria. “I assume you’ve been watching the feed?”

“Of course,” Maria turned her screen so that the both of them could watch Clint pretending to be Natasha. “He’s having way too much fun with it.”

“He was excited.”

“So, where are the twins?”

“With Aunties Kate and America,” Natasha said, pulling out her phone to show Maria a picture that Kate had sent earlier. The twins were using America as a climbing frame.

“Adorable,” Maria commented, before laughing at the screen. Clint had executed a flawless cartwheel, flip, kick combination. “Nice to see he hasn’t lost any of his flexibility.”

“Oh, he has plenty of reason to stay flexible,” Natasha said, smiling when Maria just shook her head.

 

\\\\\\\\\/////

 

Natasha walked into the room just as the training session ended.

“Agent Barton?” one of her recruits- Riaz- asked. Natasha shook her head.

“What, I leave for one day and you forget what I look like?”

“But-” Riaz turned to Clint. “Section 54, subsection 24?”

Clint blinked, turning to Natasha. “I thought that there were only fifty sections to the handbook. They haven’t added more since I took leave, have they?”

Natasha shook her head, her lips turning up. “No, they have not.”

Riaz and the other recruits shared a look, before turning to Natasha. “You tricked us.”

“Technically, he did,” she pointed at Clint, who finally couldn’t hold back his laughter. She turned to her recruits. “See you all tomorrow.”

“And you better be sparring when she gets here!” Clint called out between laughter. Natasha shook her head, turning to him.

“You had too much fun.”

Clint nodded. “Yup. I’m not allowed to do this again, am I?”

Natasha put an arm around Clint’s shoulders, walking out of the training room with him. “Not for a couple of months, at least.”

“Maybe with your next group of recruits?”

“Sounds like a plan.”


	6. Missions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Missions.  
> Takes place before any of the others.

“You know, next time,  _ you  _ can be the damsel in distress,” Clint muttered under his breath, smiling at a passing waiter and grabbing a flute of champagne to hold. He grabbed the champagne flute for two reasons:

the first, to blend in with the other guests

the second, so that he had something to hold. If he fiddled with his cuff links any more, someone was bound to start questioning him.

He shook his head when he heard Natasha’s laughter through the earpiece. “You’re not under distress.”

“Yes, yes I am. I’m in a room full of people who would very much like to kill me.” Clint looked around, noting the various doors and how well they were being guarded. “And no exit options. Very damsel like.”

 

“Ah, but unlike a typical damsel, you have me to provide backup.”

“And that fills me with a lot of confidence. Thank you.”

“Turn around. There’s your target.”

Clint turned, easily spotting the target. “Thank you.”

“Now all you have to do is obtain his keycard, get up to his hotel room, find the usb, return his keycard, and slip out, without anyone noticing you.”

Clint smiled at a passing couple. “Sure, nothing hard about that. Wish me luck.”

Clint’s misspent youth meant that he had acquired several skills which were useful to him these days. Pick pocketing was one such skill.

Gaining access to the room was simply; all the guards were downstairs.

He had not expected to open the door and find Natasha on the other side, already searching the room.

“Well, this is awkward,” she said, smiling at him before returning to her search. She had on a brown wig, and a truly  _ stunning _ green knee length, strapless dress.

“Hang on, if you had access to this room the entire time, why did i have to get the keycard?”

“Distraction, mostly.”

Clint shook his head, searching in a suitcase. “Distraction?  _ Me _ , a distraction?”

“You did an excellent job honey.”

“Oh, only excellent?” Clint asked, twirling a usb between his fingers. 

Natasha stood up, and gave him a nod. “Alright then, excellent might be the wrong word. Now we have to get the keycard back to him.”

Clint put the usb in his pocket, pulling out the keycard and offering it to Natasha. “Care to do the honours?”

Natasha pressed a kiss to Clint’s cheek as she took the keycard, leading the two back to the party.

She led Clint onto the dance floor, and the pair easily fell into the rhythm of the dance.

“Shouldn’t we be putting the keycard back?”

“Already did.”

“And we’re still here because?”

“I wanted to dance with you.”

“You know, the longer we’re here, the more likely we’ll get caught.”

Natasha shook her head, leaning in to kiss Clint. “You worry too much.”

“One of us in this relationship has to be.”

Clint might have been putting up a token resistance, but truthfully, he agreed with Natasha.

Sometimes, it was nice to just stop and dance with the woman he loved.

 


	7. Vampires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: AU/Crossover  
> Vampire/Vampire hunter AU.  
> Takes place in an alternate timeline to the others.  
> P.O.V changes after each '~'

From her earliest memories, the Black Widow had been taught to do one thing:

Kill Vampires.

In a variety of ways. Slow, fast. Days, weeks, seconds. Excruciatingly painful, or no pain at all.

Occasionally these skills fell to human targets.

In general though, it was the purpose of the Red Room to eradicate the earth of the Vampire curse which had plagued it for aeons.

 

The Black Widow was among the Red Room’s best. She had received the title of Black Widow at the age of fifteen, the youngest to ever be granted the title.

She now spent her days searching out vampires, and killing them.

Despite this, the Black Widow could remember things from another life, where she was not a Vampire Killer.

Where she had a life, a  _ partner,  _ someone who cared for her, who she cared for equally. Someone who would fight for her, who would protect her just as much as she did for them.

The Black Widow did not tell anyone of these memories. She knew that they would be taken away from her.

~

Clint Barton was a man of many skills. 

Archer.

Fighter.

Showman.

Eliminator.

Entertainer.

He was whatever was needed of him. Had been Before, and continued to be.

At the age of twenty, he had been given a choice.

Bleed out on the side of the street, forgotten to history.

Or live, and have a chance to change the world.

Of course he chose to live. 

It had been surprisingly easy to adapt to the life of the Shield- the protectors of all, vampire, human, and other alike.

Clint has been on an assignment for the past six months:

Hunt down the Black Widow.

The Black Widow had been killing vampires, humans, and others without discrimination for years. No one from Shield, or any other group, had been able to eliminate the Black Widow.

Clint sometimes wondered if this assignment was some kind of punishment.

It involved a lot of following questionable leads, and a lot of (literal) dead ends.

The Black Widow was an indiscriminate killer, and had to be eliminated.

When he finally had the Black Widow at the end of an arrow, he found himself unable to shoot.

A name he had not dared to hope to be able to say again burst out of his mouth.

“Natasha?”

~

The Black Widow blinked at the arrow pointed at her neck. Only one person could have caught her, and hold an arrow to her.

Hawkeye. The vampire that she had been tasked with killing.

But then Hawkeye said a word that did what nothing else had done; broke the Black Widow.

“Natasha?”

Natasha shook her head. “No. How do you know my name?”

“Natasha,” Hawkeye lowered his bow, and dropped it to the side. He stepped towards Natasha, raising a hand before lowering it when her eyes darted to it in fear. “It’s me. Please tell me you remember me.”

She looked from the hand, to his face. “Clint.”

Clint nodded, smiling. “Yeah, yeah. You remember me?”

“But why?”

“We were partners once.”

Natasha looked at Clint, tilting her head. “I don’t remember that.”

“The Red Room took you. Two hundred years ago.”

Natasha’s eyes widened at that, and she took a step back. “No. That is not possible.”

“Nat,  _ please _ . Try to remember me.”

“I am a human,” she stood up tall, facing down this fool who thought that he could trick her into sparing his life. “I cannot have known you two hundred years ago.”

“You’ve known me a lot longer than that,” Clint said, holding up his hands. “I know that I cannot force you to do anything that you don’t want to. You have a scar, over your left ribs.”

Her hand went instantly to the spot. “How could you know that?”

“Once upon a time, there was a tattoo there. The Red Room would have burned it off.”

Her mind was filled with the memory of burning skin. 

“It has a match,” Clint held his own ribs, in an identical position. “A promise we made to each other, three hundred years ago.”

“To never part,” she whispered, looking at Clint again. “But how can I remember this life that is not mine?”

“It  _ is  _ yours,” Clint insisted. “You and me, together forever.”

“But that would mean…” Natasha was hit with a wave of memories all at once.

_ A moonlight serenade, on the shores of a distant beach. _

_ A joyful run through the woods, chasing each other. _

_ Nights spent entangled in each other’s embrace. _

_ Promises to never part. _

_ Together forever. _

“I,” Natasha put her hands to her head, dropping to her knees. “I  _ remember  _ everything.”

Clint stepped forward, crouching down in front of Natasha with his hands outstretched. “May I?”

Natasha nodded, opening her arms up and hugging Clint.

“I’m so sorry.”

~

“I’m so sorry,” Natasha sobbed into Clint’s shoulder.

He rubbed her back; he had never seen her this upset before.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

Natasha shook her head. “I killed our people.”

“No, you didn’t.” Clint waited for Natasha to pull back, and moved his hands to her shoulders. He looked her in the eyes as he spoke. “The Red Room did. And we’ll burn them to the ground, stop them from doing this to anyone else.”

“You and me,” Natasha smiled, pulling Clint back into a hug. “Together forever.”

“You and me,” Clint repeated, kissing the top of Natasha’s head. “Together forever.”

 


	8. Affection

Affection: a gentle feeling of fondness or liking

What Natasha feels for Clint is not gentle.

 

Gentle was her cat, a small fluffy thing.

Gentle was soft, small, smooth.

Gentle was nothing like Clint.

Clint is a fire inside her chest, which cannot be tamed.

Clint is a stormy sea, unable to be conquered.

Clint is a snowstorm, unknowable until it is known.

Clint is like nature, untameable and unconquerable,

But he is hers, as she is his.

~

What Clint feels for Natasha is not gentle.

 

Natasha is as fiery as her hair is red,

her beauty outside as well as in her head.

Natasha had more to her than the eye could see,

A mind eternally free.

Natasha had love and rage and joy and fear,

but all would fall away when they were near.

Natasha and Clint, together forever,

a bond that would never sever.

 


	9. Weather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place alongside previous chapters.

The first time that the Black Widow met Hawkeye, it was snowing. A light fall, no wind to affect his arrows, the sun just behind the clouds, barely peaking out.

She did not blink, not even to rid her lashes of the snow, choosing instead to stare at this man who refused to kill her.

In turn, he remained just as open. The pair had entire conversations in the minutes that passed, with nothing but open eyes.

~

The first time that Natasha Romanoff met Clint Barton, it was raining. She had spent the morning watching the drops fall down her window; uncertain of her future, unsure of whether she had passed their tests.

Clint Barton had been the one to come into her room, alone, to deliver the news. He handed her an envelope, full of personal artefacts.

“Welcome to SHIELD, Natasha Romanoff,” he had said with a smile.

She stared down at the driver’s licence, tracing her hair. She looked up at him, not quite able to return his smile as widely, but she gave him a small one.

“Thank you.”

He had smiled even more brightly at those two simple words.

~

The first time that Natasha took Clint out on a date, it was sunny. Too sunny. The sunglasses that she wore were not for distraction, they were a necessity.

Natasha had chosen a quiet bar she had looked at for a month beforehand, checking it for any possible issues.

The date had gone off without a hitch. 

Clint’s favourite part had been when Natasha and he stopped a mugging on the walk home. The thug had looked so  _ shocked  _ at their presence, they had all but dropped the bag. The victim was most grateful.  

~

The first time that Natasha had whispered ‘I love you’ to Clint, it was windy. The words could easily have been lost to the wind; and it was true that Natasha was not entirely sure that Clint had heard her. There had been no acknowledgement through her comms, nor did he say anything about it later.

(She had later learnt that the comms were not working.)

~

The first time that Natasha had declared her love for Clint, it was a summer storm. The sun was blazing down on the pair of them as they ran through the park, attempting to find some refuge. They huddled under a tree, Natasha using her jacket to cover them both from the worst of the rain. She had watched as Clint shook his head, attempting to get the water out of it, a smile on her face the entire time.

“What?” He had asked, tilting his head. “Something on my face?”

She had shaken her head, smile never falling. “I love you.”

~

The first time that Natasha and Clint woke as a married couple, it was a misty morning. The sun had barely begun to rise, only the barest hints of light poking through. 

“Too early,” she muttered into his chest, tapping out the words on his chest.

She felt his laughter before she heard it. He wrapped her up in his arms, pulling the blanket up over them.

“Too early.”

~

The first time that Natasha and Clint stepped out as Avengers, it was a balmy summer’s day. The call had come through in the evening, and five minutes later, the pair were suited up and flying the quinjet out.

They were the only two in the Tower at the time, and met the others at the scene.

Being with SHIELD had been a job; being with the Avengers was being with a family.

~

The first time that Natasha and Clint introduced Jordan and Liam to their family, it was a clear night. Several constellations could be seen from the top of the Tower.

The Twins were two months old the first time they were able to leave the hospital level, and the Avengers had all gathered to meet them properly.

Liam was sound asleep in Natasha’s arms, while Jordan was staring at everyone from Clint’s arms. 

“So Liam likes to sleep, a lot. We’re pretty sure he sleeps for the both of them, because Jordan here is awake a lot.” Clint looked down at Jordan, who continued blinking at everyone. “Jordan, Liam, meet your family.”

 


	10. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan and Liam go to sleep believing that they had failed to make the cookies.  
> Sam & Bucky save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day ten's prompt was a free day.  
> So, this chapter does not feature Clint or Natasha.  
> Instead, Jordan and Liam steal the show, with some help from Sam and Bucky.  
> Timeline wise, this chapter is the latest, with the Twins being 12.

 

“They’re all gone.”

Jordan looked up from the bowl of mixture, frowning at Liam. “What?”

“все ушли. 全部なくなった.” Liam held his hands up. “Pick another language, it’s all the same. All the crackers are gone.”

“But we can’t make the cookies without the crackers.”

Jordan sat down on the kitchen floor, frowning. Liam sat opposite her, mirroring her expression. 

“We were going to surprise them.”

“I know Jordan.”

“They were going to be so happy.”

“I know Jordan.”

“And now it’s all ruined.”

“I know Jordan,” Liam sighed, before he sat up. “I have an idea.”

“Hearing those words is never good.”

Liam poked his tongue out at her, before he spoke. “We go and buy more crackers.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Jordan said, before shaking her head. “It’s Christmas Eve, Li.”

“No where’s open.”

“No where is open.”

 

~

 

“They look so upset,” Sam whispered from across the room, watching the twins sitting on the floor.

“So would you, if you discovered that the key ingredient for your surprise was missing,” Bucky replied, giving Sam a look.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Who puts crackers in cookies?”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s their thing. Started by Natasha, if you would believe it.”

“Yeah?”

“Something about the right amount of crunch.”

“We’ve got to do something to help them.”

“You heard the kids, it’s Christmas Eve. No where is open.”

Sam patted Bucky on the shoulder. “I have an idea.”

Sam shook his head. “Hearing you say those words is never good.”

 

~

 

Sam’s plan, as it turned out, was to check every kitchen in the Tower for crackers.

Two hours later, Sam and Bucky returned to the Barton-Romanoff kitchen with an armful each of a variety of crackers.

Jordan and Liam had gone to bed, and were sound asleep.

Bucky frowned down at the cooking done thus far. “This does not look like any cookies I have ever seen.”

“J, you wouldn’t happen to have a recipe would you?”

JARVIS obliged, projecting a recipe for the two.

“Peanut butter?”

“Cherries?”

“Jelly?”

“Rice?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look, before shrugging and following the recipe.

They spent three hours making the cookies, ending up with flour all over themselves in the process.

 

~

 

When Jordan and Liam awoke the next day, they were shocked to find the collection of cookies sitting out on the dining table.

After a sceptical taste test, they approved of the biscuits.

“Morning Avengerlings,” Sam said, walking in and smiling at the twins. “Have a good sleep?”

“Cookies,” Liam said, pointing at the cookies. Sam came over, looking at the cookies. 

“Huh, cookies. Fancy that. Guess Santa must have heard that you weren’t able to make them.”

“Mum will be happy,” Liam said, going to the kitchen. “Merry Christmas Sam.”

“Merry Christmas Sam,” Jordan said, giving Sam a hug before joining Liam in the kitchen to make some breakfast.

“Where’s Bucky?” Liam asked when Sam entered the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

“He’s tired. He was up late last night,”  _ making cookies _ was left unsaid.

Liam and Jordan gave Sam matching looks. “Ew.”

“You two are too young to be thinking about that. Besides, you’re wrong.”

The twins crossed their arms, looking at Sam.

“You two look a lot like your mum when you do that.”

This did nothing to change their expressions.

“What did you do Sam?” Bucky asked, walking into the kitchen and smiling at the Twin expressions aimed at Sam.

“He lied to us,” Jordan explained, turning to Bucky with a smile. “Merry Christmas.”

”I didn’t lie,” Sam muttered, which no one acknowledged.

“Merry Christmas Bucky,” Liam echoed, giving Bucky a hug.

“Why do they like you more than me?” Sam asked, resuming his making of coffee.

Bucky smiled widely. “Because I don’t lie to them.”

Sam shook his head. “Fine, fine. Guess that means no one wants fluffy omelettes for breakfast.”

Jordan and Liam consulted with each other, before going over to Sam and hugging him.

“We’re sorry.”

“You didn’t lie to us.”

“You’re just apologising because you want fluffy omelettes,” Sam pointed out.

The twins both shrugged. “We already got out the ingredients, and will wash up afterwards?”

Sam considered this for a moment. “What do you think Bucky?”

“I think the deal is fair,” Bucky said as he took a cup of coffee from Sam.

“Very well. Fluffy omelettes it is. Go set the table?”

Jordan and Liam set to work. Bucky leaned against the counter, watching Sam cook.

“Do we know when Clint and Natasha are getting back?” Sam asked, making sure that he wasn’t overheard.

Bucky nodded. “This afternoon. Mission went according to schedule, they’ve just got to get back here.”

“Good.” Sam looked at the table, which was set but lacking any children. “You think they’re talking about us somewhere?”

“Of course they are. You’re not very good at lying.”

Sam frowned at his cooking. “Not my fault those two are Natasha’s children. No one will ever be able to lie to them.”

 

~

 

After setting the table, Jordan and Liam sat behind the table, out of the way of Bucky and Sam. They used sign to communicate, so that they wouldn’t be overheard.

“When are mum and dad getting back?” Liam asked.

“According to mum’s schedule, this afternoon.”

“Good.” Liam looked up at the cookies, before looking back at Jordan. “Sam & Bucky made them, didn’t they?”

Jordan gave him a look. “Of course they did. But if they want to pretend they didn’t, then we’ll pretend too.”

 


	11. Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint & Natasha's first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 11: 'dates'  
> Expanding on their first date which I described in chapter 9.

 

“You know,” Clint said as he watched Natasha readjust her sunglasses for the tenth time in two minutes, “if it’s too sunny, we can go inside. Or somewhere closer.”

Natasha shook her head. “No, no. I am fine.”

Clint smiled at her, reaching out to take her hand in his. She looked down at their entwined hands, before looking back up at Clint. “Clint?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you holding my hand?”

“To stop you fidgeting with your glasses.”

Natasha did not entirely believe Clint, but let it go. For now.

Holding his hand was  _ nice _ , and he was right. She  _ had _ stopped fidgeting with her glasses. But staying connected to Clint as they walked down the street felt right. Like how it felt right to ask Clint out on a date.

How it felt right to be herself around him, in a way that she couldn’t be around anyone else.

 

~

 

She had chosen a quiet bar that opened for lunch, and didn’t play overly loud music. Clint may have been good at convincing people that he was fine in loud areas, but Natasha could see  the way that he acted extra cautious in loud areas, constantly on surveillance.

She had also chosen this bar after doing some surveillance, making sure that it was not a front for anything. 

Clint sat across from her in the booth, only having let go of her hand when she took off her glasses. His smile never fell.

 

~

 

Clint suggested that she try the mushroom burger.

When Natasha asked if he had ever been to this bar, he had shaken his head.

“Nah, but I always have the mushroom burger if they have one. Never fails.”

 

~

 

The mushroom burger was amazing.

 

~

 

They talked about a lot of things, mostly initiated by Clint. Natasha had always liked watching him talk, the way that he would use his whole body to get his point across. She knew he had not had a lot of opportunities to just  _ talk _ , and liked to watch him be free to do so. 

The smile did not fall from her face the entire time they were in the bar.

 

~

 

When they left the bar, Natasha was the one to reach out and take Clint’s hand. She smiled at him, purposely waving her free hand to show that she wasn’t fidgeting with her sunglasses.

He had laughed with her, squeezing her hand tighter.

They were walking along the street when they saw it: someone standing over another, gesturing to the bag. Clint and Natasha shared a look, nodding and letting go of their hands. They walked closer to the altercation, which other people were happy to walk around; either wanting to get away, or not realising what was happening.

“Just give me your bag, and we can all go on your day,” the thug said, smiling sweetly.

The other man shook his head, holding his bag closer to him. “No way.”

“Well, that is too bad,” the thug lifted a hand, frowning when his felt a hand on it. He whirled, anger evident on his face. “Who do you-”

Natasha smiled, but not the smile she shared with Clint. No, this one was a Black Widow smile. “Hi there. Looks like you were about to do something illegal. Or was I mistaken?”

The thug looked at the grip on his wrist, then looked over his shoulder. The other man was staring wide-eyed at Natasha, while over his shoulder, Clint was smiling. The thug turned back to Natasha.

“Okay, okay. I surrender. Let me go?”

Natasha nodded, letting go of the thug. The thug ran away immediately, not looking back.

Natasha turned to the other man, giving him a more natural smile. “I hope you’re alright now.”

“Thank you so much,” he patted his bag. “Can’t lose the bag. I’m probably already late for work. Thanks again.”

Natasha watched the man run to work. She then turned a smile to Clint.

“That was fun.” She faltered a little when Clint just stared at her. “What?”

He shook his head, before holding out his head and beaming. “Come on.”

She took his hand, and they resumed their walk. “You were staring at me.”

“Was I?”

“Any particular reason?”

“It was awesome,” Clint muttered.

Natasha squeezed his hand. “What was that?”

“Watching you intimidate that thug was awesome.”

Natasha laughed. “It was awesome to do. Sometimes it is nice to help out people on a more personal level.”

“Very true. So, what are the chances of you agreeing to another date with me?”

Natasha pretended to consider it;  _ as if my answer would be anything other than a yes. _

When she felt Clint’s steps falter, she pulled him into the nearest alleyway out of the way of the crowds, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Of course I’d agree to another date with you.”

 


	12. Colours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 13: Colours.  
> Featuring the engagement of Clint and Natasha.

 

Her eyes are green, her hair red.

Opposite, yet complementary. 

A perfect description of the two of them, really.

Opposite, yet complementary.

 

~

 

Clint grew up in the circus, while Natasha grew up in the Red Room.

Clint was raised to entertain and steal, while Natasha was raised to seduce and kill.

And yet here they were, side by side. Each other’s partner, the one they trusted above all others. 

It astounded Clint, if he thought about it for too long. It didn’t make sense, while at the same time making the most sense of anything he had ever known.

 

~

 

Lying in the muddy forest, breathing as silently as he could, all Clint could think about was those green eyes and red hair, hoping that he would get to see them again. To tell her what she meant to him.

 

~~~~~

 

His eyes are grey, his hair blond.

Nothing overly outstanding about either, and yet it is what she saw every morning, and every night. What she saw when she closed her eyes, and what made her smile more than anything.

He had given her a chance at a new life, without ever expecting anything from her. 

She could not imagine a future without him.

 

~

 

Natasha brought the golden arrow to her lips, as she often did when nervous. Clint was on assignment on the other side of the world, and Natasha did not know what he was up against.

She was sitting in her room, unwilling to be around anyone at the moment. She was waiting for the call that she instinctively knew would be coming. 

It came ten minutes later.

“Romanoff, you leave in five.”

She was at the jet in one.

 

~

 

All that she was told was that Barton was missing, presumed injured. She had a last known location, and nothing else.

It was raining, the sky was grey. She couldn’t look at the sky; all she could see were eyes that she had lost herself in too many times to count.

She kept her eyes on the brown ground, watching the mud squash beneath her boots. 

She would find him, nothing else was an option.

 

~

 

She found him after two hours of searching, twenty kilometres from his last known location.

He was underneath a tree, and he was barely conscious.

“Clint!” she fell to her knees, holding onto his face. “Clint!”

“Why’re you yelling?” he blinked his eyes open, coming more awake when he saw Natasha. “What’re you doin out here?”

“Saving you, apparently,” she helped him to stand, after checking for any injuries. “I was worried.”

“Shouldn’t be,” he said around a cough. “’M fine.”

“If you’re fine, I’m a blonde.”

“You’d look good as a blonde.”

“Come on,” she secured her arm around his waist, before beginning to help him walk. “You need medical.”

“No.”

“No?”

“It’s only a concussion. And ever’thing being yellow.”

“Clint, that can’t be good.”

“M’be I need to go to medical.”

 

~

 

Clint ended up staying in medical for a week, Natasha never leaving his side.

“You can leave, you know,” he had said, staring at her.

She shook her head, stretching her arms over her head. She was wearing one of his purple hoodies. “Never leaving you, you know that.”

“Yeah, I do,” he smiled at her.

She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Be careful Barton, that sounded almost like a thing you’d say when you’re getting married.”

He continued to smile. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea. But only if you’re the one asking.”

Natasha sat up straighter on her chair, leaning forward so that her elbows rested on the bed beside Clint. “Why?”

“Never been able to say no to you.” Clint reached out to hold Natasha’s hand. “Besides, I’m hardly in a good position to ask you to marry me, am I?”

Natasha shook her head, before leaning forward to kiss Clint on the cheek. “Clint, will you marry me?”

“Yes Natasha,” Clint kissed her back. “But only if you get me a really nice ring.”

Natasha shook her head again, joining in with Clint’s laughter.

 

~

 

A day after Clint was released from medical, a ring appeared on his bedside table.

Black, with a red inner colouring.

  
  



	13. Tradition!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 14: Traditions.

 

They hadn’t meant for it to become a tradition.

It was silly, really. Something born of boredom, and a sense of humour.

And yet, here we are.

Natasha, standing in front of a market, shaking her head. 

Markets were a great place to lose a tail.

Markets were a great place to take down a mark. Discretely, of course. 

(Leading someone down an alley, into a waiting van. Natasha had done it countless times.)

A market was where this tradition had begun, all those years ago. 

A red head chasing after a blond, unwilling to lose sight of him. But he knew the streets better than she did, and had easily doubled-back and caught her. 

He had slipped a bracelet onto her wrist while he pressed a kiss to her cheek, a cheap children’s present. It was red and purple, and thick as her wrist. 

It was ridiculous, something she’d never buy for herself, and he knew that.

Five years later, and that bracelet still sat amongst her most prized possessions.

On her next mission, Natasha had found a ridiculous purple scarf, a truly hideous thing that belong in the back of a cupboard, never to be seen again.

Clint had worn it proudly on their next date, and the date after that, and around HQ, and any time he wasn’t on an assignment. 

And so the tradition had begun: any time the two were on separate missions, they would return with a ‘souvenir’ for the other. No matter how terrible, the recipient would use the souvenir with joy.

So here Natasha was, another successful mission under her belt, two hours until extraction, and a market to explore. 

 

~

 

Clint was in their apartment, cooking Natasha’s favourite post-mission meal. 

It was routine at this point; Clint cooked Natasha a rich carbonara with extra avocado in the sauce, and she would cook him a pizza. 

It was their post mission routine, and they both valued it. Knowing that they would be coming home to a wonderful meal, and the company of the one they loved? There was no better feeling. 

_ Well, maybe there is  _ one  _ better feeling _ , Clint thought as he heard the door opening, and the sound of Lucky making his way to the front door. Clint turned off the heat, scooping out the carbonara onto two plates and putting them on the kitchen table. He was able to step out of the kitchen just as Natasha entered the room, Lucky on her heels.

“Smells great,” Natasha smiled, coming over and throwing her arms around Clint’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

“I assume that the mission went well,” Clint said when they parted.

Natasha nodded, going over to sit at the kitchen table, Clint sitting opposite her. She dropped her bag beside her. “Of course. I feel sad that you doubted me.”

Clint shrugged. “I don’t doubt you. Never have.”

Natasha smiled, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a box, handing it over to Clint. “I know that.”

Clint eyed the box, before looking at Natasha. “What am I about to open?”

“Now that isn’t the point,” Natasha pointed her fork at Clint, before taking a mouthful. 

Clint nodded, opening the box. Inside was a clay sculpture of a dog, or at least Clint  _ thought  _ it was meant to be a dog. The legs were a little all wonky, and the tail was just  _ wrong _ .

“You don’t like it?” 

Clint looked up at Natasha, who was doing nothing to hide her smile. He copied her smile, putting the dog in the centre of the table.

“It’s perfect,” Clint said with a perfectly straight face.

Natasha nodded, returning to her food. “Good.”

Clint returned to his own food, doing nothing to stop the smile on his face. 

_ It’s a silly tradition, but it’s  _ ours _.  _

 


	14. Parties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 15: Parties

 

For the longest time, Natasha could only associate parties with one thing:

Missions.

There were no reasons to hold celebrations. A party meant a target, an easy distraction. Countless targets had fallen at her hands surrounded by a party.

All these years later, and Natasha still felt an unease at parties that  _ weren’t  _ a mission. 

Parties to  _ actually  _ celebrate something? It was still a foreign concept. 

The Avengers were celebrating their latest successful mission-  _ or was it last week’s mission? _ \- with a party. 

Well, they were calling it a party. Natasha did not think that it was a party.

For one thing, only the Avengers were there. And not even all of them.

Natasha, Clint, Tony, Steve, and Bruce. Five people were  _ not  _ a party.

Clint and Natasha were competing against Steve and Tony in a video game, with Bruce watching them all with an amused smile on his face. 

Tony and Steve were losing.  _ Badly _ . 

“Next round,” Tony said, after the scoreboard showed up indicating that Clint and Natasha had (easily) won again. “Next round, the spies cannot be on the same team.”

“Why not?” Natasha asked, turning to face Tony. “Are we too good for you?”

Clint burst out laughing at the look on Tony’s face. “Oh, you look ridiculous right now Stark!”

Tony shook his head. “No, no, your girlfriend is the one who looks ridiculous. And is saying ridiculous things.”

“So you’re saying that we’re,” Clint pointed between himself and Natasha. “That we’re not better than you? Because I think the scoreboard indicates that we are.”

“They kind of are,” Steve admitted, getting up to get himself a new drink. 

“New teams,” Tony repeated. 

Clint shrugged. “Or, we could go solo. Bruce, you want in?”

Bruce shook his head. “No thank you. I am happy to watch.”

“Suit yourself,” Clint turned to Tony. “So, solo?”

Tony nodded, picking up his controller. “Bring it on.”

Clint gave Natasha a smile. “You ready?”

“Osaka?”

“Osaka.”

Natasha smiled. “I’m ready.”

“What’s Osaka?” Steve asked, returning to his seat and picking up his controller.

“Nothing,” Clint and Natasha answered in unison.

Tony shook his head. “Bring it on.”

 

~

 

Natasha and Clint tied for first.

“There is no separating you,” Steve said, putting down his controller. Tony sat there, staring at the screen in shock.

“How?”

“We’re just that good,” Clint smiled.

“How does Osaka tie in?”

Natasha answered Steve. “See, in Osaka, we-”

Clint shook his head, putting a hand over Natasha’s mouth. “No.”

“No?”

“No one hears about Osaka. We agreed.”

Natasha nodded, reaching up to Clint’s hand and bringing it to the couch between them, holding onto it. “We agreed.”

“Just like Budapest all over again,” Tony muttered to Steve, who nodded.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you saying about us?”

Tony held up his hands. “Nothing bad.”

“I hope not,” Clint said. “Didn’t think you’d be a sore loser.”

“No, I learn from my mistakes,” Tony sat up straighter, pointing at Clint and Natasha. “You two are  _ never  _ to be on the same team again.”

“Seconded,” Steve added.

“I agree,” when all eyes turned to Bruce, he shrugged his shoulders. “What? Watching the same people win  _ every  _ time does get tiresome.”

“Bruce, you don’t even play,” Clint pointed out. 

“Which puts me in the perfect position to say that you two should not be allowed on the same team.”

“Fine,” Natasha said, tightening her hold on Clint. 

“Wait,” Steve said, looking at Natasha. “You’re taking this rather well. Why?”

Natasha answered with a smile.

“I don’t trust that smile when it’s directed at me.”

“As it should be,” Clint replied.

 

~

 

The party ended with a couple of movies, the team slowing falling asleep in the room. 

Natasha was the last to fall asleep, an arm around a sleeping Clint, who was using her lap as a pillow. 

_ Parties  _ used to leave a bad taste in her mouth, as did  _ family _ . Neither one was associated with good memories.

She looked around at what had quickly become her family, and she wouldn’t change it for the world.

_ Hopefully I’ll be able to gain many more happy memories with this family. _

 


	15. Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 17: Emotions

 

Emotions were a weapon. 

Easily controlled, as deadly as a blade in the right hands. 

Easily manipulated in others, and often used  _ more  _ than a weapon. 

For the longest time, the only emotions that Natasha was allowed to show were ones that were being used to control someone else. Never was she to show what she was truly thinking or feeling.

Lessons learnt at a young age, on the other end of an unforgiving master. 

There was only one time her emotions had gone out of her control; the day that Clint saved her.

~

 

Clint had learnt from an early age to not show his true emotions.

A crying kid was too easily ignored, or worse.

It was just easier to stamp down any emotion, be a blank face.

Most people associated it with his lack of hearing. Clint wasn’t in a rush to correct them. 

And then he grew up and became a spy. Spies have even less use for emotions than kids. 

SHIELD trained him though, taught him how to only show what he wanted to show, whether it was something he was feeling or not.

(Clint didn’t tell them that he already knew how to manipulate his emotions).

Even with all he thought that he knew, seeing a sixteen year old red head ready to kill him made him forget to even try and hide his emotions. 

~

 

“You lied to me.”

Fury hadn’t even looked up from his computer when Clint had stormed into his office.

“Barton. Take a seat.”

Clint had been fuming, but did as instructed. Fury turned off his computer, turning to face Clint.

“You were saying?”

“You lied to me.”

“If I recall, I assigned you to find the Black Widow. Where exactly was the lie?”

Clint twisted his lips up, staring Fury down. “She is sixteen.”

“And you are seventeen. What is your point?”

“You made it seem like an elimination mission.”

Fury inclined his head. “I did.”

“I would never have killed her.”

“I know that.”

Clint’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his chair. “You knew I would bring her back.”

“I did.”

“How could you know?”

“I had a feeling. And in this business,” Fury leaned forward, hands resting on his desk. “You have to trust your feelings.”

~

 

_ Trust your feelings. _

Three simple words which had stayed with Clint ever since Fury had spoken them.

And those three simple words had changed everything. 

Emotions weren’t something to be ashamed of. They could be freely shown, without fear of repercussions.

He might have had a less than stellar childhood, but it had brought him here. It had brought him to the woman that he loves. 

~

 

Emotions. She had spent what felt like lifetimes trapping them underneath layers of thoughts, barely sparing the time to acknowledge them.

Now, laying in Clint’s arms, she finally felt ready to express them whenever she felt, uncaring of who saw her smiling. 

 


	16. Hobbies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 18: Hobbies/Activities

 

Clint spent his downtime drawing.

How you spent your downtime at SHIELD was important. You never knew how much time you would have, so you couldn’t waste it.

Clint chose to spend his time drawing.

Was he any good at it? No. And Clint was the first to admit it. 

It was calming, relaxing. 

Using a pencil to just let out his exhaustion from the day, let out any residual emotions.

Clint never said that his  _ reasons  _ for drawing made sense to anyone besides him.

No one ever saw the drawings. Clint himself rarely looked at them again afterwards. 

He’d draw for an hour, then put it in a desk drawer, never to be seen again. Rinse and repeat.

~

 

As with most things in his life, the routine of drawing had changed when Natasha became an important part of his life. 

She hadn’t seen him draw until they moved out to the apartment.

They were post mission. Natasha’s routine meant that she stayed close to Clint, at least in the same room as him. 

He had pulled out a pen and piece of paper on autopilot, beginning to draw without regard to Natasha. She had sat their watching him, silently. 

“What are you drawing?” She asked when he finished.

He looked down at his drawing, and could feel the blush. “Nothing,” he muttered, turning to the side.

Natasha nodded her head. “Very well.”

Clint looked at Natasha, holding the drawing to his chest. “Why do you want to see it?”

Natasha waved a hand. “You looked so peaceful while drawing. It’s a good look on you.”

“Really?”

Natasha nodded. Clint looked down at his drawing again, and handed it over.

“Only if you promise not to laugh.”

Natasha nodded as she took the paper. She looked at it, then looked up at Clint with a straight face.

Too straight.

“Go ahead.”

At Clint’s words, Natasha burst out laughing. 

“It’s  _ terrible _ ,” she got out in between bursts of laughter. Clint ended up joining in.

“It was supposed to be you.”

“I figured. Still, it  _ is  _ terrible.”

“Never claimed to be an artist.”

Natasha continued to laugh as she stood up to come and sit with Clint on the chair, dropping the drawing onto the table in front of them.

“Don’t quit your day job honey.”

“It’s just a hobby,” Clint pointed out as he wrapped his arms around Natasha. 

 


	17. (A brief) argument, with making up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 19: Arguments/Fights/Making Up.  
> So I really didn't want to go into too much about the fight, and wanted them back together. I might revisit this one day, when I have the ability to write out some proper angst.  
> Chronologically speaking, this takes place between 'Being Normal' & 'Firsts'  
> Natasha is 20 weeks pregnant.

 

“I can’t do this.”

Clint looked up at the sound of cutlery dropping to the table. He turned away from the stove to face Natasha properly. “You can’t set the table?”

Natasha sat down at the table, pushing the cutlery away from her. She frowned at the table as though it had personally offended her.

Clint turned off the gas, and took a seat opposite Natasha. She moved her hands in acknowledgement, but otherwise did not move. 

“This is not about the cutlery.”

“Obviously,” Natasha said as she crossed her arms, still frowning down at the table. 

Clint sat back in his chair, watching her. “Do you want some dinner?”

Natasha shook her head.

“Will you want dinner later?”

Natasha shrugged her shoulders.

“Is there anything you can tell me?”

Natasha looked up at him, expression carefully blank. 

“That look stopped working on me a long time ago.”

_ Doesn’t mean I won’t try,  _ Natasha thought to herself, continuing to stare at Clint. 

Clint stared right back, before standing up to return to the kitchen.

“I’m hungry, and am going to eat my dinner,” he spoke as he dished up two plates, bringing them over to the table. He placed one in front of Natasha, and one in front of himself. “Join me, or don’t.”

Natasha stared down at the table as Clint ate in silence. 

~

 

“Is everything okay?”

Clint looked up at Tony, who offered him a cup of coffee. Clint took the coffee, watching as Tony sat across from him.

Clint gestured to his paperwork. “I’m in the middle of paperwork, before I go on a mission tonight. Do I look okay?”

“You never do paperwork in the communal kitchen.”

“Maybe I’m asking for a distraction,” Clint waved his cup at Tony. “So thanks for that.”

Tony gave Clint a pointed look. “Clint?”

Clint sighed, pushing away his paperwork and dragging a hand down his face. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing ever is.”

“Don’t believe you.”

“Try me.”

“Natasha is giving me the silent treatment.”

“See, not stupid.”

“What?”

“She’s what, twenty weeks pregnant with twins? Of course there’s going to be moments where she won’t want to talk.”

“Because you have so much experience with this?”

Tony stood up, picking up his cup of coffee. “A piece of advice before I go? Maybe say whatever it is that you need to say. Before you do something that you will regret.”

~

 

“I made a mistake,” Natasha whispered to her unborn children, as she lay on a couch. “A mistake. I panicked, and went silent. Silence does not solve anything. And now your father is on a mission, and I can’t tell him that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I couldn’t say what I should have said. I’m scared, and there’s no one to talk to.”

~

 

“Well done everyone. Dismissed.”

Clint stayed where he was, while others left the room around him. 

“Barton?”

Clint looked up at Steve, and offered him a smile. “Something you need Cap?”

“Was about to ask you the same question,” Steve lent on the table next to Clint. “Normally at this point you’d be rushing off to see your wife.”

“Yeah,” Clint trailed off, looking down at his hands. “We might of had a fight before I left.”

“And you left it unresolved.”

“Yeah. And before you say it, I’m going to go. I just didn’t want to just yet.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Maybe I’m explaining myself to myself.”

~

 

Natasha is lying on the couch asleep when Clint walks in. He stays quiet, dropping his bag into one of the spare rooms before making his way across the room. Lucky is lying beside the couch, and Liho is curled up on Natasha’s feet.

Clint makes it halfway to her before she wakes up.

“You’re back early,” she says around a yawn. Clint nods, sitting on the end of the couch. Liho had moved as soon as Natasha had, moving to lie with Lucky. Both were staring at Clint.

“Quick mission.”

“I’m sorry,” they both say at the same time. Clint gestures for Natasha to speak.

“I’m sorry for going quiet. I got scared.”

“Of what?”

“Everything,” Natasha sighs, shaking her head. “This is going to happen every week until they’re born, isn’t it?”

“Probably for every week afterwards as well. I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.”

“It was understandable.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

Natasha stood up, stepping over the two on the floor. She held out a hand to Clint. “Bed now. Fix it in the morning.”

“As you wish,” Clint said as he took Natasha’s hand, walking with her to their bedroom. 

_ Like Nat said, it’ll probably happen every week. But we’ll be fine. We always are. _

  
  



	18. Senses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 21: ‘ Senses (Touch/Sight/Sound/Smell/Taste)’  
> So I’ve written a bit for each of those five senses, plus a bonus for the senses of safety, and joy.

 

‘Touch’

Contrary to popular belief, Natasha is the more tactile of the pair. 

Years of touch used, and being used on her, as a form of manipulation meant that she now took every opportunity to initiate and enjoy the feelings associated with hugging.

She can’t remember a time when a hug was enjoyable, before Clint.

~

‘Sight’

Clint is long sighted.

It is not a well known fact. Mainly because it isn’t relevant. Most people never saw him reading. And he could read without his glasses, it just wasn’t preferable.

Natasha had been surprised, the first time she had seen Clint wearing glasses. The famous Hawkeye, famed for his eyes, wore glasses? It had seemed inconceivable.

But now, the sight of Clint sitting on their couch, reading over his next mission, was a source of comfort, and continuity.

~

‘Sound’

Natasha knew that there was something odd about Clint’s hearing from their first meeting. He always listened to her on an angle. Not a large one, but just enough to not be facing her head on.

It was later that she would learn why.

Once she had been accepted into SHIELD, she learnt Sign. 

He told her that it wasn’t necessary.

She told him that it was.

(When his hearing aids were shorted out on a mission that they had together, Natasha had signed ‘See’. Clint had poked his tongue out at her, before acknowledging that she was right).

~

‘Smell’

Natasha smells like apples.

Clint can’t explain it. He tried, and Natasha had given him a weird look.

(“I don’t wear perfume Clint.”

“But you smell like apples.”)

It’s not as though he has memories associated with apples. It made no sense, really. 

But if anyone asks Clint, Natasha smells like apples.

 

Clint smells like clouds on a rainy day.

Natasha can explain it. Clint  _ still  _ gives her weird looks.

(”How can someone smell like a cloud on a rainy day?”

“Because it’s my favourite weather, and you’re my favourite person?”

“But  _ clouds on a rainy day?” _ )

Natasha suspected that Clint misunderstood on purpose, because after questioning it, he would always get this fond look on his face. 

And Natasha knew that she had an identical look on hers.

~

‘Taste’

Natasha cannot stand the taste of black coffee.

Clint swears by the stuff.

(Natasha loved the way that Clint drank his coffee- his nose would always, without fail, crinkle up after he swallowed).

 

Natasha loves the taste of avocado, but only if it is fried first.

Clint had refused to try it, claiming something about ‘ruining the sanctity of the avocado’.

(Natasha convinced him to try some, and now it is  _ always  _ in their carbonara.)

 

Clint is the one who had introduced Natasha to the joy of carbonara.

At first, Natasha had called it ‘excessively creamy, a waste of perfectly fine pasta.’

Clint had asked her what he could add to make it better. She had said apples, mainly as a joke. She did not think that Clint would add apples to a carbonara. 

Clint added apples, and to both of their surprises, it  _ did  _ taste better.

~

‘Safety’

The sense of safety that they get from each other cannot be underestimated.

Never before has Natasha been able to trust someone to  _ always  _ have her back, even when she was nowhere to be seen.

There was no need to make Clint fear her, no need to do anything to keep his trust. She had it, no question about it.

 

Clint could no longer imagine a life without Natasha by his side.

She was his most trusted partner on any mission, his best friend. The only one who knew his most closely guarded secrets.

She was his first thought upon waking, and his last thought as he went to sleep.

She gave him a sense of safety that he had never had before, and could not imagine ever having again.

~

‘Joy’

A sense of joy was not something found in the life of a (former) Red Room graduate.

A sense of joy was not something found in the life of a SHIELD agent.

Neither one had room for a life outside of work.

But Natasha and Clint found a way to bring joy to each other’s lives. Despite all the odds against them, they found a way.

 


	19. Injuries/Hurt/Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 22: Injuries/Hurt/Comfort  
> Despite the theme, this is fluff. Very much so.

 

Natasha rarely broke a bone, so when she broke one enough to be sent to medical, you knew it was bad.

She was sent out of medical with explicit instructions to stay off of her left leg at all times.

Clint saw this as an opportunity to look after Natasha, like she did whenever he got himself injured.

He set up the couch with three blankets, and ten pillows.

“Excessive,” Natasha observed as Clint helped her to sit on the couch.

Clint shrugged, turning to go and prepare a hot chocolate. “Remember what you did when I last broke something?”

“You mean last week?”

“Oh ha ha.”

“I bundled you up in a blanket, and set Lucky to sleep on you.” At his name, Lucky came over, resting his head beside Natasha’s legs. She leant forward and scratched behind his ears. “You’re a good dog. You don’t go and break your bones every other week.”

“Who is the one confined to the couch?” Clint asked, handing over the Natasha Blend Hot Chocolate*.

(*three scoops of hot chocolate, one scoop of chilli powder, warm milk).

“Thank you Clint,” Natasha reached up to take her hot chocolate, leaning back and drinking her hot chocolate.

Clint sat on the couch next to Natasha, pulling up the blankets to cover them both. Lucky moved so that he was lying on top of the blanket, making sure that it wouldn’t move.

“Thank you Lucky,” they both said in unison. They laughed, Natasha turning her head to give Clint a kiss on his cheek.

“So what are we going to watch?”

“What else?” Clint asked, as he lined up the next episode of Dog Cops.

“What else indeed,” Natasha muttered, taking another sip of her hot chocolate. 

Despite the pain of her broken leg, Natasha was unable to fight the smile on her face.

She had her family looking after her. What more did she need?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never had a Natasha Hot chocolate. I can't imagine anyone other than Natasha has.


	20. Stuck Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 23: ‘Stuck Together (Snowed in/Laying low/Trapped in an elevator or jail/Quarantine/etc)’

 

“How do these things happen to you?”

“I don’t know! It just... it just happens.”

Natasha sighed, looking out through the door to their jail cell. “Looks like your typical local jail. We could probably get out...” Natasha trailed off as she turned around, seeing Clint sitting on the floor, head in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

Clint shook his head, closing his eyes. 

“Clint?”

“I’ve been here before.” Clint shook his head, lowering his hands but not looking up at Natasha. “I didn’t realise it until I saw you staring out the door.”

Natasha sat down next to Clint, reaching out to take his hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” Clint breathed out. He paused, taking another breath, before opening his eyes and giving her a smile. “I know how to get out of here though.”

~

They found a local cafe to lay low in, knowing better than to try and outrun the local authorities.

(They’d be looking for people leaving the town, not for a couple sitting in a cafe sharing a drink.)

“I’m not going to talk about it,” Clint talked to his coffee, stirring it more than was necessary.

Natasha took a sip of her hot chocolate, watching Clint.

“I’m not,” he finally looked up, seeing Natasha just watching him. He blew out a breath. “I was nine.”

“Clint-”

Clint waved her off. “No, no, it’s fine. So, I was nine. Me and Barney got thrown into that jail for... I can’t remember the  _ why _ . We were stuck, and the circus was leaving that afternoon. We had to get out. Barney found a loose brick, and a spare key. We got out, made it to the circus in time.”

“And the key was still there all these years later?”

Clint shrugged. “Small towns don’t change.”

Natasha reached out, holding onto Clint’s hand under the table. “Thank you.”

Clint responded by squeezing her hand. He took a drink of his coffee, before looking at his watch. “You could have gotten us out of there though.”

“Probably. But having a key made it infinitely easier.”

“Yeah,” Clint finished his coffee, standing up and holding his hand out. “Shall we?”

Natasha finished her drink, before standing up and looping her arm through Clint’s. “Lead on, Mr Barton.”

  
  



	21. Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 16: 'De-aged/children'  
> We check in on the twins again, who are three months old.

 

Even at three months old, Jordan and Liam were still small enough that Clint could hold them both in one arm. 

Three months, and Natasha still could not believe that they were so small. She sat on the couch, watching Clint sit on the floor with the twins in his arms, chatting away as though he hadn’t spent all night up with them

Natasha had always been better at hiding her tiredness, but ever since they were allowed to start bringing the twins off of the hospital floor, she could not hide it. She just wanted to sleep, usually when the twins wanted to eat.

Three months old, and they still spent most of their time on the hospital floor. 

Jordan was watching Clint with her wide eyes. Natasha supposed she would grow into them, but for now the phrase ‘wide eyed wonder of youth’ was not inappropriate.

Liam, as per usual, had his eyes closed. They had been reassured multiple times that this was fine, that there was nothing to worry about.

It did not stop Natasha from worrying, though. Though she supposed nothing would stop her from worrying about her children.

She looked up at Clint, who was looking at her with a small smile on his face. She returned the smile, before closing her eyes, attempting to get  _ some _ rest.

Lucky came to lie beside her on the couch, watching over her as she slept.

~

Clint looked down at the twins, who were now both asleep. Jordan was curled up in his left arm, while Liam was spread out across his right. Both looked so peaceful, so calm... a far cry from last night, when neither would sleep.

Clint suspected that they had inherited their parent’s severe dislike of medical, given that they were always the most annoyed around their daily visits.

They still had to grow; they were almost up to the size of a newborn.

_ My two fighters,  _ Clint thought, before looking up at Natasha, who had finally been able to also get some sleep.  _ My  _ three _ fighters. _

  
  



	22. Tropes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clintasha Advent Day 12: ‘Tropes’
> 
> Tropes used: ‘Agents Dating’ & ‘After-Action Patch-Up’

 “May knows we’re dating.”  
  


“Hold still,” Clint said as he continued wiping away the dirt on Natasha’s arm. She sighed, shaking her head.   
  


“It’s not that bad, I don’t know why you’re worrying.”

  
“Because it’s not bad now,” Clint spoke as he got out a bandage to wrap around her arm. “But it will get bad if you ignore it.”

  
“Not likely,” Natasha muttered, before saying louder, “Did you hear what I said about May?”

  
“Course. She told me last week.”

  
“What did she say to you?”

  
“Blah blah, don’t let it get in the way of our missions, blah blah, hurt her and they’ll never find my body, blah blah.”

  
Natasha used her free hand to flick Clint’s forehead. “I think you need to take her threats a little more seriously.”

  
Clint shrugged. “Maybe. But she’s been saying the same sort of things to me ever since I joined. It’s her way of showing that she loves me.”

  
Clint, having finished wrapping up Natasha’s arm, stood up, offering Natasha a hand.

  
“How did I manage to get hurt while you remain injury free?” Natasha asked, standing up and wrapping her uninjured arm around Clint’s waste.

  
Clint shrugged, beginning to walk towards their extraction. “Luck, I guess.”

  
  
  


 


	23. Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 20: Music.  
> So I posted this on tumblr 3 days ago, and never put it here.  
> Then wondered why I didn't have the right number of chapters here.  
> Enjoy :)

Natasha can play the saxophone in a national symphony. She has, on multiple occasions. 

It’s not a skill listed on her SHIELD files. Nor was it a skill cultivated by the Red Room.

It was a skill she had obtained for herself. 

It had been after joining SHIELD.

Natasha had had a freedom which she had no idea what to do with. 

Several people had suggested that she should take up a hobby to pass her time.

Choosing a hobby proved difficult. Some agents read, some trained, some wrote.

There was no clear consensus on what made a hobby.

So Natasha turned to Clint.

Clint would spend his free time playing instruments- mostly a guitar. He seemed to play by ear, for the most part. It was clear that he had not had any formal training, but the way his face changed when he was playing was of great interest to Natasha. It was like he was a completely different person when he was playing the guitar.

So Natasha decided to learn a musical instrument.

She put on a wig, and went to a local teacher. 

She had started on a flute, and had been unable to get it right. The tutor had suggested a saxophone. It was a perfect match.

Three months of practice later, Natasha was invited to join a symphony.

Rather,  _ Natalie  _ was invited. 

Either way, it brought great joy to Natasha to be able to put her new skills to use.

And of course Clint was there, in the front row,  _ almost  _ enjoying it as much as Natasha did.

(The smile did not leave Natasha’s face until the next week, when she had another mission).


	24. Cookies2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 24: Free Day.  
> This is a direct continuation of the previous free day- chapter 10.

 

Even though the twins were older now, Natasha and Clint still didn’t like leaving them alone.

But some missions called for their particular skill sets.

(Strike Team Delta did not become the most successful team in SHIELD history for no reason).

Neither of them had celebrated much of anything growing up. Since coming to the Tower though, celebrations were just a normal part of life.

And it wasn’t so much Christmas per se, as a reason to spend time as a family.

Even so, not being their with their children was tough. Always was, no matter the time of the year.

~

 

“So what mess do you think the twins have gotten themselves into?” Natasha asked as they stood in the elevator, waiting to be taken to their floor.

Clint shook his head. “Not the question you should be asking.”

“What mess have Barnes and Wilson gotten themselves into?”

“There’s the real question,” Clint said as the elevator stopped, arriving on their floor. 

And opening to silence.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Clint, before the pair walked in. A moment later, Sam ran into the room.

“Welcome back. We haven’t lost your kids.”

Bucky, having come in behind Sam, shook his head. “What he means is, welcome back. I trust the mission was a success?”

“You playing hide and seek?” Clint asked, receiving a pair of nods in answer. He sighed, walking away. “I’ll go get them.”

When Sam and Bucky took a step to follow him, Natasha reached out to hold their shoulders, stopping them. She shook her head when they turned confused looks on her.

“It’s their secret hiding spot. You’re not allowed to know.”

~

 

Clint made his way to the twins’ room, opening the door quietly. He then went to the middle of the room, looking up at the vent on the roof. Clint reached up, jumping to grab hold of the grate, and pull it off. He then hauled himself up, coming face to face with his children.

“Dad!” they both exclaimed.

“Ready to come down?”

The twins nodded, and Clint went back down first. He held his arms out; Jordan went down first, followed by Liam. 

“Thought we said you couldn’t you that as a hiding place anymore?” Clint asked as he walked back to the main room, Jordan in one arm, Liam in the other.

Jordan shrugged. “They could have found us, if they were trying.”

“They weren’t trying,” Liam added.

“I’m sure they were.”

“They weren’t.”

“Weren’t what?” Natasha asked.

The twins jumped down out of Clint’s arms, running to hug Natasha.

“Apparently Sam and Bucky weren’t trying to find them.”

“Really Avengerlings?” Sam asked, receiving two wide smiles in answer.

Bucky put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Come on, before you start getting glared at again.”

“Thank you Sam and Bucky,” the twins said in unison, giving hugs to both Sam and Bucky.

“Anytime,” Bucky smiled, before he and Sam left.

Liam and Jordan each took a hand of their parents, dragging them to the dining table. 

“What’s happening?” Natasha asked, as she and Clint were pushed into seats.

Liam came over with a plate of cookies.

Natasha took a bite, before smiling. “How’d you make them? I thought we were out of crackers.”

“We were,” Liam said, sitting at the head of the table, sharing the chair with Jordan.

“We went to bed with no cookies, and woke up to a plate of cookies,” Jordan added.

“Sam and Bucky made them,” Liam continued. “But they didn’t say so. They must have gone searching for crackers after we left.”

“We really wanted to make you cookies for when you got back.”

“So given that they were nice and made cookies for you,” Natasha turned to ask her children, “why did you go and hide in the secret spot?”

The twins looked at each other, before turning to their mother. “Sam lied to us.”

Natasha turned to Clint, who lifted his hands. “I think that’s fair.”

“I suppose. Merry Christmas, you two.”

“Merry Christmas!” The twins said in unison, smiles wide on their faces.

 


	25. A year in their life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 25: ‘Christmas/New Years/Hanukkah/Holidays (Any holidays are accepted, including birthdays, Thanksgiving, etc.)’

 

You lose track of dates whilst on a mission.

It was an occupational hazard; you live by minutes, not dates.

It can take a couple of days to re-orientate yourself afterwards.

Even so, Clint and Natasha always made sure to remember the important dates.

New Year’s Eve was spent in Morocco, watching the city below them in each other’s arms.

Valentine’s Day was spent in Peru, chasing down a target.

Clint’s Birthday was spent in England, doing some undercover work. (Undercover as a married couple, of course.)

Natasha’s Birthday was spent in the air, the pair having spend the majority of the day flying home.

The Anniversary of their meeting was spent in Norway, snowed in in their safe house.

Their wedding Anniversary was spent in decontamination. No one enjoyed that.

Thanksgiving was spent with the Team in the Tower.

Christmas was also spent in the Tower with the Team. 

New Year’s Eve was spent in Australia, for no reason other than spending the night together. 

And in the end, is that not all that matters?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have come to the end!  
> Thank you everyone for reading, and Happy Holidays :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought :)


End file.
